Acta deos numquam mortalia fallunt (Mortal Actions Never Deceive Gods)
by Raven Peredhil
Summary: Oropher returns to visit an old friend. Things take a rather dark turn. AU short story.


"Your majesty!" a voice called, shaking the blonde young woman from her thoughts. She glanced over, the owner of the voice was familiar to her, it belonged to her chief advisor and an old friend.

"Lord Alexander," she replied, blue eyes meeting his, "the hour grows late, you should be resting. According to my recollection, there are many meetings scheduled for tomorrow."

"It is for that very reason which I approach you. One of the guards informed me that you were still awake, your grace. Surely it would be wise to retire soon.

"Indeed, it would be wise, however, I have other matters to take care of this night that must be done."

"Theresa," he hesitated to address her by her name, it seemed almost foreign for him to do so, "You must sleep. Your councilors worry for you, and the people. The kingdom needs a ruler, one who is not dead on her feet. Especially given that we are on the brink open war."

"I assure you; I shall be perfectly fine. Your concern and that of the council's is noted. I will rest when need. Leave me, I wish to be alone tonight."

The Lord sighed, reminding himself that it was most unwise to strangle the queen, but must she insist on always being this stubborn?

"As you wish," he bowed his head and left, knowing better than to push the limits with her.

Theresa stared blankly at the papers sitting before her, it had something to do with King James' lands and their pillaging of the few villages just within their borders. She knew that they would have to declare war sooner or later, they had a reputation to maintain after all.

Despite everything, she could not bring herself to worry over such matters tonight. The queen stood and made her way to her chambers, fortunately, no one else was awake this time of night. She made sure to lock the door behind her as she entered, desiring to be alone tonight.

Electric blue eyes flickered to the curtains in the westward corner of her room, the heavy blue cloth was closed over the shrine she had built all those years ago. She used to keep them open, eventually, the memories proved to be too much and she had no choice but to close them, lest the demons of her past return to haunt her.

Preparing for bed had become a mindless routine at this point, and she set about it without much thought. She stood in front of the vanity, examining her reflection in the candlelight. The soft, warm glow illuminated her features in all the worst ways; her eyes looked haunted, her face gaunt, and the shadows on her face reflected her true age.

"You almost look like me," a deep voice cut through the silence that had settled in the room.

Theresa would've jumped, or perhaps looked around frantically, but she had been expecting this for some while now, truthfully, she was surprised that he hadn't appeared to her sooner.

"Get out of my head, Oropher. Now," her voice was low, barely a whisper as she kept her eyes trained on the mirror before her. Right behind her, a figure appeared. His formerly white-blonde hair fell just past his shoulders, filthy and matted to his face. She almost couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes and look at his face, she knew all too well the ghostly skin and lifeless gaze that would greet her, though she forced herself to anyway.

"Oh, come on, half-elf. How many years did you spend antagonizing me? Now you would send me away when I've just come to visit?" His hand reached up, carefully brushing her hair away from her face, purposefully grazing her ear in the process.

She shuddered involuntarily, the unnatural coldness of his touch disgusted her, "it has been years since your death, years since I last spoke with you. I've moved on-"

He cut her off, yanking her back by her hair and wrapping a hand around her neck, "Moved on? How could you move on, when you're still thinking of me?"

"Get out!" She snapped, her hand contacted the glass, shattering the mirror and he was gone. The blonde suddenly felt sick, her stomach was turning, and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest. Theresa looked around desperately, looking for any clue to indicate an outside source that could be the cause of such visions. Sighing, she cleaned up the broken glass and threw it out before finishing in her preparations for bed.  
~*~*~*~

"Help me! Saes, Mellon nin... Please. Save him," Thranduil pleaded as he knelt by his father, holding the Elven-king's fading body close.

Raven stared at him numbly, she looked almost dumbfounded by the situation. Her grey eyes scanned the battlefield, elven bodies, the remnants of the great army lay scattered about. She had just lost Gil-Galad, her king and cousin, the young captain was struggling to even put one foot in front of the other, "I... I fear I cannot. My body has neither the strength nor ability to save the dying, especially not right now."

Her heart sank as she watched the look on her friend's face change, the desperation quickly became anger and hate, "Leave. Now," he growled.

Normally, the half-elf would've argued, but she found she couldn't. Without another word, she turned and fled, there was nothing for her anymore.

"You could've helped me, Half-Elf, you know you could. You were just too weak at the time, had you trained harder, pushed yourself farther, you would've been able to save me," Oropher's voice rang clearly in her ear as she walked through the Dead Marshes. It had been 300 hundred years, she had essentially disappeared from elven society, losing herself to her anger and becoming the very monster that she had once fought herself. Even as she passed the floating bodies, she remembered the battle, watching all those elves fall left and right, and knowing that it would partially be her fault.  
~*~*~*~

"Oropher..." her voice broke as she fell to her knees before the body of her long-passed friend, head bowed in grief, "forgive me... I have failed you." Even as she spoke, she could feel the temperature drop, and the wind picked up, taking her unbound brown hair with it. The familiar sense of dread appeared once again.

"That you did," that damned voice, the one that still haunted her nightmares, spilling even into her waking hours.

Silent tears rolled down her cheeks as she stared up at him. Before her stood the remains of a once-great king, now reduced to nothing more than a memory.

"You're here... I thought that you would finally leave me be once I returned. I thought that we could both finally be at peace."

"Peace?" a harsh laugh tore from his throat, "How could I ever know peace, knowing that you are alive while I am dead?"

"I beg of you, leave me be. I have done everything to repent-"

"Repent? Is this what you call repenting? Oh, how far you have fallen from grace, little girl..." The ghostly figure tilted his head to the side a little as if listening to some other deity, "join me," he held his hand out to the girl, an almost demonic look in his eyes.

She considered the proposition for a moment. The former captain was at a place in her life where she had given up, the scraps of her remaining family thought her dead, and those whom she had truly cared for were dead. Hesitantly, she reached up and took his hand.

Just before she could, she was forcibly jolted awake and sat up in bed, a knife clutched in her shaking hands as she frantically looked around. Seeing as there was nothing in her room, she replaced the knife under her pillow and pulled on a simple robe over her nightgown, the cool silk refreshing against her flushed skin.

'I need some air, that's all I need to clear my head,' she thought to herself as she made her way out to her balcony. She stood, gripping the railing tightly as life unfolded before her. The full moon shone brightly overhead, surrounded by stars foreign to her, despite her years of studying them.

"You look more like my daughter than you do your own father's. You do remember him, don't you? He made you what you are."

She closed her eyes when she heard his voice again, exhaustion taking over, "Please Oropher... It has been over 25,000 years since the battle... Please... leave me be," her voice broke as she fell to her knees before him, desperation read from her posture and voice, "tell me what you want from me, I will do everything in my power to see it through... just leave me alone, please."

"I want you," his hand cupped her chin, forcing her to look up at him. He leaned in close, breath stinking of rot and decay, "I want you dead at my feet. I want justice for what you did to me."

He vanished, just as suddenly as he had come, leaving the queen where she was, shaking from fear.

As time passed, days faded into weeks, and weeks into months. Theresa had always struggled to deal with grief, getting stuck in her past and was unable to move past it. She began to spend more and more time to herself, isolating herself to her thoughts and letting them run wild.

Normally, Oropher only ever showed up once or twice a year, always around the same time, but it seemed that he had no intention of leaving her alone. Everywhere she looked, there he was, whether it be the corner of the room, or in the quickest glimpse of a reflection, she saw him everywhere. Even in her sleep, she could feel something watching her as she drifted off, though her dreams fared no better. The once confident monarch grew to be paranoid, always tensed and ready to spring to action at the quickest notice, though of course, she did not let anyone in on this, she kept everything securely locked away in the back of her mind.

She picked up drinking, despite never handling alcohol well, she found herself with alcohol in hand every night, it was the only escape.

Flinching at the burn, she forced herself to swallow down the vile tasting liquid. She had managed to drink half a bottle already, and it had officially taken its hold on her. Her eyesight was fuzzy, and everything felt muted like someone had put a blanket over the world. Her gaze was focused on a point in the middle of the table in front of her until the familiar scent of decaying flesh filled her nostrils. Hesitantly, she looked up and saw him, he had become less and less aggressive as time went on.

"Oropher..." the name came out slurred, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. Nothing else was said, nothing else needed to be. Without even truly thinking about it, she opened the drawer just to the right of her and opened it, revealing a simple vial of a clear liquid. It was a poison that she had synthesized years ago, strong enough to kill her, but would still do it slowly enough that she would suffer before she died.

Everything happened slowly, she seemed almost in a trance-like state as she uncorked the bottle and raised it to her lips, hesitating only a moment before swallowing it down. Immediately, a burning sensation flooded her senses, and she collapsed, falling out of her chair and to her hands and knees. Every nerve was on fire, she bit down hard on her cheek to keep from crying out, though she could not hide the whimpers of pain that escaped her.

Oropher approached her and knelt down beside her as she gasped for air, the expression on his face mocking. He had finally won, she had finally caved, it only took 25,000 years.

Just like that, she was dead. Killed just as silently as she had killed countless others in the past.

In truth, there had never been any supernatural force haunting her, simply a fragment of the assassin turned queen's imagination running wild. Raven Peredhil had committed countless sins, the guilt weighed heavily on her, no matter how she tried to hide it. When she finally realized the consequences of her actions, it was too late to change her ways, so she tried to remake herself, changing her name and running from her past. Eventually, it caught up to her. Years of built up misery and regret could not simply be erased, and slowly drove her mad. Though Theresa Wayland had learned to be better, it wasn't enough, it could never be enough.

Mortal actions never deceive the Gods.


End file.
